


the bus is a battleground

by jamesmadibabe



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, Alternate Universe - School, Anxiety, Bullying, Crushes, Cute, Kidfic, M/M, Meet-Cute, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 06:04:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12315222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesmadibabe/pseuds/jamesmadibabe
Summary: He's seen it a million times before - he's the ugly, small, jumpy, defenseless fat kid, and they love to tease him for shits and giggles.(jeffmads middle school au)





	the bus is a battleground

**Author's Note:**

> hey.
> 
> i'm trash.

James Madison doesn't like going on the bus.

It's far too loud for his liking, and even blasting his favorite classical songs in his headphones doesn't drown out the shouting. There are too many children on it, and it's probably a safety hazard - if you don't book it from your last class you'll have to end up sitting on someone's lap or standing up. They're rowdy, too - once a day someone is threatening to fight and once a month someone actually ends up fighting. Don't even get him started on the smell - a bunch of sweaty pre-teen boys, half of which have no idea how to use deodorant, and girls who are just discovering perfume combined with the putrid smell of vomit is enough to give him a headache. The bus driver looks like he's about to croak, and has one of the most severe cases of road rage he's ever seen but seems to be immune to all of the ornery children behind him.

It isn't as if James can do anything about it, though. His house wouldn't be that far to walk, but he's scared of going alone and doesn't really have anyone to go with him. And he would never dream of asking one of his parents unless he wanted a lecture on 'being a man.'

Thankfully, things are kind of looking up this year. He's a seventh grader, and even though he's too short and chubby for anyone to ever be intimidated by him the sixth graders seem to understand he has more standing than them and will move when he gets the courage to ask. The eighth graders don't pick on him as much, now that he's in the seventh grade - they're too busy terrorizing the fresh meat.

Even though James tries to follow the rules because of a fear of being in trouble, he's fucking sprinting through the halls, his heart beating so hard it feels like it's about to burst through his fragile chest. His asthmatic lungs can't take it, but at the moment he doesn't care. His teacher held them far after the bell, angry about something that she would forget the next day.

If he gets on the bus too late, there might not be anywhere to sit, or even worse, he'll have to sit in the back, which stinks of weed and still has dried blood from that time some kid 'accidentally' stabbed another with a pencil. James has nightmares about the damn place.

Finally, he arrives in the bus loop, stomach dropping when he sees the teachers rounding up the last of the procrastinating students. The smell of gas fills his already beaten-up lungs - the buses are already on, prepared to leave.

So James sprints to his bus, face on fire. Just as he suspected, it's already completely full. His eyes scan the rows for the safest spot to sit. The first person he recognizes is Angelica's little sister, Eliza, but she's sitting next to some eighth grader who looks like he hasn't slept or ate in a month. His heart pangs - Angelica's in high school now, but he knew if she was here she'd make sure he had someplace to sit.

He hovers over an Asian girl scribbling in a notebook towards the back of the bus, but not too far. He doesn't recognize her - she must be in the sixth grade or a new student. Either way, she looks like a safer bet than Charles Motherfucking Lee, who's the only other person sitting by himself. "Is it-? Can I - ?" He stutters, nervously scratching his arm.

The girl looks up at him with dark brown eyes, then grins at him, moving her bookbag out of the way. Coughing into his arm, James plops down next to her, offering an apologetic smile.

"I'm Dolley," she introduces herself, and before James can say anything she continues, "And you're James Madison. You normally try to get here first and sit in the first seat, on the left, behind the bus driver, and you put your headphones on."

James blinked, hard. He was sure he'd never talked to this girl before, and she seemed to know a lot about him. Which was weird, not only because he never noticed her looking at her, but also because he wasn't anything special to be observed. Was she like that to everyone? "Uh… why?"

"I've made it my business to know everything about everyone and everything."

"Oh." This topic is making James uncomfortable, so he tries to change it, "So what were you drawing?"

Dolley's cheeks heat up, and she opens her sketchbook just a tad, and he sees a figure with a mop of unruly hair. It takes James a little while to figure out that it's Angelica's little sister, Peggy. He can make out the gap between her teeth, the bushy eyebrows, her permanently rosy skin, and her trademark overalls. Out of all the Schuyler sisters, James tries to stay away from Peggy - she's much too rough for his liking, but she seems genuine. "Why-?"

"I like like her," Dolley whispers, putting emphasis on the second like to know that it's a crush. "For serious. A lot. For a long time."

James blinks hard. He really didn't have any experience with crushes, (Were kids really like like-ing each other in the sixth grade?) so he had no idea what to say. He's never been interested in girls in that way, but he knew his parents probably had someone picked out and he'd marry her. "Peggy's a girl," he points out.

"So?" Dolley says, sounding confused.

Her parents must be different. If James came home and said he like liked a boy they'd beat his ass raw. "I hope things go well for you." Peggy has a nice family - they were more than supportive of Elias when they decided to go by Eliza, and didn't bat an eye when Angelica went to homecoming with a girl. Sometimes he wished he lived with the Schuylers - even though they had a million kids they loved every single one of them and made time for them.

The only time James's parents talked to him was when they were yelling at him.

Something small collided with the back of his head, and he broke one of the first rules of riding the bus - he looked behind him. Everyone knew that was practically an invitation to get picked on. Almost immediately, there was hooping from a group of boys - the only one he recognized was James Monroe from book club. They're all laughing and older than him, a terrible sign. The clear leader is possibly the most beautiful boy he's ever seen, with thick brown curls James wants to run his hands through, and dark brown eyes he could get lost in. When he opened his mouth to smirk, it revealed blue braces and his white teeth, which made his budding mustache shine through.

"Hey, you!" Shouts the smallest one, a red-faced chubby Asian kid.

Heart pounding in his chest, he pointed at himself, even though he knew they were talking about him.

"Duh!" The tallest one, a black girl with soulful hazel eyes yells back, her grin stretching across her entire face. "Y'know, he-" she points at the gorgeous curly haired boy, "-likes you."

James's eyes flicker toward the older boy, once, twice, lingering even though he knows it's stupid, and snaps his head around, face burning. He feels as if he's going to catch fire when he hears roaring laughter.

He knew this was coming. People who fearlessly sat in the back only would try to get his attention for one reason. He's seen it a million times before - he's the ugly, small, jumpy, defenseless fat kid, and they love to tease him for shits and giggles.

And, yeah, even though he was sure this was coming, he's naturally sensitive. He keeps his nose out of trouble and tries to avoid any situation that involves human contact. It's even worse because when he looked into those dark eyes he thought he came to a deeper understanding.

"SHOVE YOUR RETAINER UP YOUR ASS!" Dolley shrieks, climbing to her knees on the seat - James is too bewildered to try and steady her. "FUCK OFF!"

"You don't have to do that," he whispers, tugging on her sleeve, urging her to sit down. He's blushing, even more, and he wants this all to stop. It's cool of Dolley to stand up for him, even though they don't know each other. (Sure, she seems like the kind of person who would fight over almost anything, but it’s still nice.) But this is just going to bring more trouble, and he's sure that they'll give him more shit for having to have someone else to fight for him, especially a younger girl.

Dolley sits back down, muttering. She tries to talk to him, but he's so upset his ears are burning and all of the background noise makes blurs together. When will this ride be over? The weed, perfume, and cologne make him want to hurl. Or gauge his eyes out. Possibly both.

When they get near his house, instead of waiting for the bus to completely stop, he springs to his feet, wobbling towards the door, and zooms off. He isn't sure if he says bye to Dolley or not, but figures he'll apologize to her tomorrow.

 

\---

 

James doesn't go to school the next day. Doesn't feel like it. Faking sick is easy enough when his parents pay little to no attention to him. Without much trouble, he ends up being able to lounge at home cuddling the teddy bear (Yes, the one his father shouts at him for still owning it) and watching reruns of Dr. Phil and Maury. (It takes everything in him not to watch Dr. Oz and end up obsessing over every possible illness he could have.)

No matter how much ice cream he scarfs down, he can't stop thinking of blue braces and voluptuous curls.

 

\---

 

 

"I heard from a reliable source that you sit in the office for lunch."

James has never had an issue with his lunch arrangements, and even when other people have come in they've never bothered him. Why would someone be seeking him out, anyway? His stomach plummets as his eyes flicker up to see who his company is.

It takes James a moment to realize who it is, but when it clicks he feels even more wary, ready to run away if possible. The kid sitting next to him is part of braces boy's crew, the one who was leaning on his shoulder and squinting at James accusingly. Even though he's only a little taller than James, his unaffected expression and sharp jaw are intimidating. He's never been more scared of a bald person.

"Don’t-" The older boy looks even more distressed when James starts subtly sliding away from him.

"Listen, I don't mean any harm, alright?" He holds out his hand, offering a smile - it looks fake as his mom's tits. "I'm Aaron Burr."

This seems like a trap, and James doesn't want to humiliate himself anymore, so he stays quiet, watching this stranger's moves carefully. He knew he should have stayed home again today.

"I understand if you don't want to talk, and don't trust me. I just want to apologize for what happened on Wednesday. My friends are assholes, but I promise we didn't mean to embarrass you. They just, don't think things through, alright?" Aaron coughs awkwardly into his hand before getting up.

"Wait!" James grabs the back of Aaron's sweater, and he turns around. His face is on fire again, just like when he first saw the curly-haired boy. "Did, he, uh, really mean it? When he said, he-"

"I don't think that's my part to tell," Aaron replies, a genuine smile spreading across his lips.

 

\---

 

The library is his second heaven.

After lunch is study period, and there's always a bunch of kids in the office who got into trouble in the cafeteria. Being surrounded by books and cuddling on the couches is one of the best feelings ever. Really, he'd stay in here during lunch if the librarian didn't hate him so much.

John Hancock is an ass who's had it out for him since his first day of sixth grade.

"Yo," says a voice. It's deep, almost musical, but they sound unsure.

James squeaks in surprise and turns around, only to be met with the dark brown eyes of braces boy. His eyebrows are upturned and his lips stretched into an uneasy smile. He's beautiful. "Oh- it's you."

Braces boy clears his throat, gesturing to the seat beside James, who nods. He sinks into the couch, running his hand through his hair. "Hey, I'm sorry for upsetting you. Martha and Adams aren't the most… understanding and, er, tactile, and I'm sorry if they upset you."

"Bald b- Aaron, he's already apologized," James says sheepishly, trying not to stare, as the older boy's tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously. "I, uh, it's okay."

They sit together for a couple of minutes, awkwardly, each wanting to talk but not being able to come up with the words to say. It's odd because the boy next to him seems like the type of person who always has shit to say - James could tell when he first saw his smirk on the bus.

"I meant it!" The other boy bursts out, a blush overtaking his face. He's biting his lip, and his eyes are starting to water.

James's heart almost pounds out of his chest, and his breathing starting to get heavy. Was this all a joke? Aaron had seemed so sincere, but there was no way someone actually like liked him, especially one so… he has no idea how to describe it.

"I like… I like you. Like, a lot. I like like you." The boy stutters, foot tapping the floor and fiddling with his hands. It's cute. "I've been watching you for a while - please don't think it's weird - and you're amazing. You're sweet and kind and even though you're scared a lot you go out of your way to make sure everything's okay. I've seen you at NJHS. Your mind works beautifully, and even when you're panicking you can come up with clear solutions. I see your eyes darting across the room, and it's, like, magic, watching you digest everything and figure things out. You never miss a single detail. I've been wanting to talk to you since I was in the seventh grade but I didn't want to mess things up and now you think I'm-"

TOO MUCH!

 

\---

 

James wakes up with a crick in his neck, head swimming. It takes him a moment to realize where he is, even though he's been here a million times. As a sickly kid, the nurse's office feels more like home than his actual house. Admittedly, James takes advantage of his perma-pass.

The memories start flooding in and he leaps to his feet, head spinning. He looks around, wildly, vision blurry. The only other person he sees is the kid who was sitting next to Eliza holding a bunch of tissue to his nose. The nurse, a cheerful old woman, pops out in front of him. "Oh, Jamesie, you're awake! You seemed to have passed out because you were overwhelmed; all your vitals seem fine, and you usually get more upset when I call your parents. Your study period is almost over, so are you ready to go back to class or do you want to hang out here?"

He rubs the side of his head, not really feeling like going to class but knowing he has to. "I'm fine,' he assures her, eyes flickering towards the bloody-nosed boy; not someone he feels like would typically hang out with sweet little Eliza. "Is - ?" He looks around again, heart trying to escape his chest. He knew it was too good to be true. "Is anyone waiting for me?"

"Oh, your little friend Thomas?" So that was his name. "He seemed really concerned, and he threw a fit when I told him he couldn't just sit around here."

The rugged boy stares at him with two bruised, red-tinted eyes. He whispers, "Little cunt is probably in the old computer solutions room. It's where he goes to let off steam when he LOSES ONE OF OUR FIGHTS."

 

\---

 

James slowly opens the door to the old computer room. Dust is in the air, and the lights haven't worked since his first month of sixth grade. "Thomas?" He calls out uncertainly.

The boy jumps out from under one of the old tables, running over to James. His eyes are lit up with happiness, but his smile is uncertain. "I'm so glad you're okay! I can't believe that old hag wouldn't let me see you…" Thomas shuts the door, eyes searching James. "I'm sorry for weirding you out earlier. I hope that doesn’t make you think less of me, I-"

"Thomas," James laughs. The idea of someone being nervous about him is completely foreign. "I can't say I've been noticing you for months like you say you have, but the past few days have been… weird. If you really meant it, and you're not playing with me, I'd love to try… whatever this is." James has no idea how this thing works. Is it too early to ask Thomas to be his boyfriend?

"YES!" Thomas shrieks, looking so happy he doesn't know what to do with himself. He tugs on his fingers, tapping his feet as he looks at James. The sight makes his heart melt and he knows he's three seconds from having another asthma attack. "I've noticed sudden touching makes you uncomfortable, so is it okay if I hold your hand?"

"Thank you for asking," James grins, taking ahold of Thomas's hand. It's a bit sweaty, but he doesn’t mind.

They walk down the halls, talking, not wanting to go to class even though the bell's already rung. Finally, James has someone to sit next to on the bus.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is devilstit. hmu, comrade


End file.
